About this Book

At the very centre of this case lies Opal Koboi, the pixie who bankrolled the
goblin gangs attempted takeover of Haven City. Opal was facing a lifetime behind
laser bars. That is if she ever recovered from the coma that claimed the pixie
when Holly Short foiled her plan.

For almost a year, Opal Koboi languished in the padded cell wing of the J Argon
Clinic, showing no response to the medical warlocks who tried to revive her. In
all that time, she spoke not a single word, ate not a mouthful of food and
exhibited no response to stimuli. At first the authorities were suspicious. It
is an act, they declared. Koboi is faking catatonia to avoid prosecution. But as
the months rolled by, even the most sceptical were convinced. No-one could
pretend to be in a coma for almost a year. Surely not. A fairy would have to be
totally obsessed

The J Argon Clinic was not a state hospital. Nobody stayed there for free. Argon
and his staff of psychologists only treated fairies who could afford it. Of all
the clinic's wealthy patients, Opal Koboi was unique. She had set up an
emergency fund for herself more than a year previously, just in case she ever
went insane and needed to pay for treatment. It was a smart move. If Opal hadn't
set up the fund, her family would undoubtedly have moved her to a cheaper
facility. Not that the facility itself made much difference to Koboi, who had
spent the past year drooling and having her reflexes tested. Doctor Argon
doubted if Opal would have noticed a bull troll beating its chest before her.

The fund was not the only reason why Opal was unique. Koboi was the Argon
Clinic's celebrity patient. Following the attempt of the B'wa Kell goblin triad
to seize power, Opal Koboi's name had become the most infamous four syllables
under the world. After all, the pixie billionairess had formed an alliance with
disgruntled LEP officer Briar Cudgeon, and funded the triad's war on Haven.
Koboi had betrayed her own kind, and now her own mind was betraying her.

For the first six months of Koboi's incarceration, the Clinic had been besieged
by media filming the pixie's every twitch. The LEP guarded her cell door in
shifts, every staff member in the facility was treated to background checks and
stern glares. Nobody was exempt. Even Doctor Argon himself was subjected to
random DNA swabs to ensure that he was who he said he was. The LEP weren't
taking any chances with Koboi. If she escaped from Argon's Clinic, not only
would they
be the laughing stock of the fairy world, but a highly dangerous criminal
would be unleashed on Haven City.

But as time went by, fewer camera crews turned up at the gates each morning.
After all, how many hours of drooling can an audience be expected to sit
through? Gradually the LEP crews were downsized from a dozen to six and finally
to a single officer per shift. Where could Opal Koboi go, the authorities
reasoned? There were a dozen cameras focussed on her twenty four hours a day.
There was a subcutaneous seeker-sleeper under the skin of her upper arm and she
was DNA swabbed four times daily. And even if someone did get Opal out, what
could they do with her? The pixie couldn't even stand without help, and the
sensors said her brain waves were little more than flat lines.

That said, Doctor Argon was very proud of his prize patient, and mentioned her
name often at dinner parties. Since Opal Koboi had been admitted to the clinic,
it had become almost fashionable to have a relative in therapy. Almost every
family on the rich list had a crazy uncle in the attic. Now that crazy uncle
could receive the best of care in the lap of luxury.

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